All prompt with eager pity, to fulfil
The full extent of their Creator's will.
But when the ftern conditions were declar'd,
A mournful whisper through the hoft was heard,
And the whole hierarchy, with heads hung down,
Submiffively declin'd the ponderous proffer'd crown.
Then, not till then, th' eternal Son from high
Rofe in the strength of all the Deity ;
Stood forth t' accept the terms, and underwent
A weight which all the frame of heaven had bent,
Nor he himself could bear, but as Omnipotent.
Now, to remove the least remaining doubt,
That ev'n the blear-ey'd fects may find her out,
Behold what heavenly rays adorn her brows,
What from his wardrobe her Belov'd allows
To deck the wedding-day of his unfpotted spouse.
Behold what marks of majesty the brings;
Richer than ancient heirs of eastern kings:
Her right hand holds the fceptre and the keys,
To fhew whom the commands, and who obeys:
With these to bind, or fet the finner free,
With that to affert fpiritual royalty.
One in herself, not rent by schism, but sound,
Entire, one folid shining diamond;
Not fparkles shatter'd into fects like you :
One is the church, and must be to be true:
One central principle of unity,
As undivided, fo from errors free,
As one in faith, fo one in fanctity.
Thus fhe, and none but fhe, th' insulting rage
Of heretics oppos'd from age to age :
Still when the giant-brood invades her throne,
She ftoops from heaven, and meets them half way down,
And with paternal thunder vindicates her crown.
But like Egyptian forcerers you stand,
And vainly lift aloft your magic wand,
To fweep away the fwarms of vermin from the land :
You could like them, with like infernal force,
Produce the plague, but not arreft the course.
But when the boils and blotches, with disgrace
And public fcandal, fat upon the face,
Themselves attack'd, the Magi ftrove no more,
They faw God's finger, and their fate deplore;
Themselves they could not cure of the dishonest sore.
Thus one, thus pure, behold her largely spread,
Like the fair ocean from her mother-bed;
From east to west triumphantly fhe rides,
All shores are water'd by her wealthy tides.
The gospel-found, diffus'd from pole to pole,
Where winds can carry, and where waves can roll,
The felf-fame doctrine of the facred page
Convey'd to every clime, in every age.
Here let my forrow give my fatire place,
To raise new blushes on my British race;
Our failing ships like common-f
n-fewers we ufe,
And through our diftant colonies diffufe
The draught of dungeons, and the stench of stews.
Whom, when their home-bred honesty is lost,
We difembogue on fome far Indian coaft :
Thieves, pandars, paillards, fins of every fort;
Those are the manufactures we export;
And these the miffioners our zeal has made:
For, with my country's pardon be it faid,
Religion is the least of all our trade.
Yet fome improve their traffic more than we ;
For they on gain, their only god, rely,
And fet a public price on piety.
Induftrious of the needle and the chart,
They run full fail to their Japonian mart;
Prevention fear, and, prodigal of fame,
Sell all of Chriftian to the very name;
Nor leave enough of that, to hide their naked fhame.
Thus, of three marks, which in the creed we view,
Not one of all can be apply'd to you :
Much lefs the fourth; in vain, alas! you feek
Th' ambitious title of apoftolic:
God-like descent! 'tis well your blood can be
Prov'd noble in the third or fourth degree:
For all of ancient that you had before,
(I mean what is not borrow'd from our store)
Was error fulminated o'er and o'er ;
Old herefies condemn'd in ages past,
By care and time recover'd from the blast.
'Tis faid with ease, but never can be prov'd,
The church her old foundations has remov'd,
And built new doctrines on unstable fands:
Judge that, ye winds and rains : you prov'd her, yet fhe Those ancient doctrines charg'd on her for new,
Shew, when, and how, and from what hands they grew.
We claim no power, when herefies grow bold,
To coin new faith, but ftill declare the old.
How else could that obfcene disease be purg'd,
When controverted texts are vainly urg'd?
Το prove tradition new, there 's fomewhat more
Requir'd, than faying, 'twas not us'd before.
Those monumental arms are never ftirr'd,
Till fchifm or herefy call down Goliah's sword.
Thus, what you call corruptions, are, in truth,
The first plantations of the gospel's youth;
Old ftandard faith: but caft your eyes again,
And view thofe errors which new fects maintain,
Or which of old disturb'd the church's peaceful
And we can point each period of the time,
When they began, and who begot the crime;
Can calculate how long th' eclipse endur'd,
Who interpos'd, what digits were obscur'd:
Of all which are already pass'd away,
We know the rife, the progrefs, and decay.
Defpair at our foundations then to strike,
Till you can prove your faith apoftolic;
A limpid ftream drawn from the native fource;
Succeffion lawful in a lineal courfe.
Prove any church, oppos'd to this our head,
So one, fo pure, fo unconfin'dly spread,
Under one chief of the spiritual state,
The members all combin'd, and all fubordinate.
Shew fuch a seamless coat, from fchifm fo free,
In no communion join'd with heresy.
If fuch a one you find, let truth prevail :
Till when your weights will in the balance fail:
A church unprincipled kicks up the scale.
But if you cannot think (nor fure you can
Suppofe in God what were unjust in man)
That he, the fountain of eternal grace,
Should fuffer falfehood, for fo long a space,
To banish truth, and to ufurp her place:
That feven fucceffive ages fhould be loft,
And preach damnation at their proper
coft;
That all your erring ancestors should die,
Drown'd in th' abyfs of deep idolatry :
If piety forbid fuch thoughts to rise,
Awake, and open your unwilling eyes :
God hath left nothing for each age undone,
From this to that wherein he fent his Son:
Then think but well of him, and half your work is done.
See how his church, adorn'd with every grace,
With open arms, a kind forgiving face,
Stands ready to prevent her long-loft fon's embrace.
Not more did Jofeph o'er his brethren weep,
Nor lefs himself could from difcovery keep,
When in the crowd of fuppliants they were feen,
And in their crew his beft-beloved Benjamin.
That pious Jofeph in the church behold,
To feed your famine, and refuse
The Jofeph you exil'd, the Jofeph whom you fold.
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